


you oughta head for the exits (maybe it's the pressure)

by MaliciousVegetarian



Series: Geralt Whump Week 2020 [REUPLOAD] [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Curses, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has ADHD, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, Jaskier | Dandelion Has ADHD, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliciousVegetarian/pseuds/MaliciousVegetarian
Summary: When Geralt is cursed to speak everything he thinks, he's afraid Jaskier will realize what a mess his mind is, or, almost as terrifying, how much Geralt loves him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt Whump Week 2020 [REUPLOAD] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943452
Comments: 50
Kudos: 415





	you oughta head for the exits (maybe it's the pressure)

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 9/28/2020 - This is a reupload of a previously posted fic. I deleted all my witcher fic during a Bad Brain Time, and am slowly replacing things.
> 
> Here's Day three! This is a weird fic and also hands down my favorite so far. I poured a lot of Feelings about my ADHD into it, which was both Rough and wonderful. Thanks to WingedQuill for looking this over. The title is a chopped and screwed line from Autoclave by the Mountain Goats.
> 
> Warnings: panic attacks, internalized ableism, self-esteem issues, one slightly gory metaphor

They never figure out who placed the curse on Geralt.

The town had been fairly normal. Geralt had filled the contract he’d taken by mid afternoon, so Jaskier insisted they stay at the inn in town, so he could perform. Jaskier had looked so happy at the prospect that he had said yes.

Geralt always liked Jaskier’s music, but sometimes his brain would get caught up in them and sometimes it would wander. Certain songs were more likely to catch and hold his attention, but there was no real rhyme or reason to when a song didn’t.

He sat in a dark corner of the half-empty tavern, where he would go unnoticed if he found himself tapping or playing with the strings on his shirt. The place was poorly lit and a little damp, but what patrons there were seemed to be enjoying the performance. His brain flew away almost as soon as he sat down.

_Good day today. Jaskier’s happy, like to see him happy. Got my coin easy, not like last time, or that time in Redania, with the cows. Haven’t seen cows in a while, wonder why. Maybe with the big pastures they stay away from the roads. Do cows like people? Suppose they’re like anything else, really, it depends how much you handle them. Handle a horse when it’s a baby and teach it manners and you’ll have a faithful companion, better than if you just let them run wild._

Something catches his eye, a dramatic movement Jaskier makes, waving his hand at the audience, and Geralt’s attention follows his eyes.

_He moves so fluidly, he almost doesn’t seem real sometimes. Too beautiful to exist, I guess. Fuck, but I love his voice. When he does the thing - I don’t know the word, why don’t I know the word? Traveled with him long enough, I should know it. I’m a bad friend. I’d be a bad - don’t go there, don’t even think it - good he’d never be interested in me._

Absorbed in his head, he almost doesn’t realize when Jaskier finishes his performance. He zones back in to the bard bidding the people of the town good night. A few people get up as if to leave, but most stay seated, here for a drink rather than a song. Jaskier is beaming as he approaches Geralt. “My newest song was well received, although it deserved a better debut than this small audience.”

_I didn’t even notice him play it. It was important to him and I missed it, like I miss everything._

Geralt can recognize the signs of a spiral by this point, but why stop it if the thoughts are true? Someone needs to keep him in line, and if no one else will do it directly it might as well be him.

“Well?” Jaskier’s grin is impatient. “What did you think?”

_I thought it was amazing, or I would have, because it’s yours, and you’re brilliant. Your music is wonderful and I wish I knew the proper words for it. I love you._

He doesn’t say any of that out loud. If he does, he won’t be able to stop. He’ll say something wrong, and maybe Jaskier won’t leave then but he’ll begin to distance himself, to pull away. And Geralt will panic and talk more and say more wrong things, and before long Jaskier will be gone.

Geralt has thought this all out before, and it’s better not to risk it.

“It was good,” he says.

Jaskier sighs dramatically. “Effusive as always, Geralt.”

_You hurt his feelings by not saying more. You do that all the time._

_Yeah, but this way I get to keep him._

Geralt and Jaskier don’t notice one of the patrons staring at them. They’re younger, with long dark hair, and they had been one of Jaskier’s most enthusiastic listeners. They take in the conversation before them, and shake their head as if in disgust.

-

The road out of town is pleasant, running along the top of a line of hills. Below them are shallow valleys, opening up into wide meadows occasionally broken up by trees. Geralt is enjoying the scenery, if he’s honest. Jaskier is saying something, and Geralt is only half listening, because he’s thinking about his Jaskier problem again.

_His hands are gorgeous. I could watch him play forever, and never get tired of it. He could play nothing but Toss A Coin ever again and I would still love t-_

“-he sound of his voice.”

Hearing his own voice is jarring, because the space in the main room of his brain where his train of thoughts usually live is strangely empty. Jaskier stops, giving him an odd look. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I didn’t say that, not out loud.”

Jaskier is now looking at him like he’s sprouted wings. There’s concern in his eyes, and before Geralt can even think about how to stop this he’s talking again.

“He’s upset I upset him I did that, I can’t do anything right, what’s happening, I can’t make it stop, I don’t know what’s happening, I need to slow down, need to stop, I’m being too loud -”

“Geralt!”

Jaskier is standing next to Roach. Geralt didn’t see him move. He tries to shut his mouth, to force himself to stop talking, but he can’t do it. “I can’t make it stop, it needs to stop, I need to stop, I need to just shut up, why can’t I shut up -” Jaskier wraps a hand around Geralt’s wrist, using just enough pressure that it’s comforting. “-feels good, pressure’s good, he’s so good, too good for me, I need to stop, I’m going to say something stupid and I can’t stop, and -”

“Geralt, can you hear me?”

He’s breathing faster now, his chest heaving, and he can’t seem to pause long enough to breathe in as deeply as he wants to. “I can hear him, need to tell Jask I can hear him, need to make my mouth work, it won’t, why won’t this stop, I’m being loud, I’m being too loud, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”

“Geralt, can you take your feet out of the stirrups?”

His vision is tunneling, all his focus bearing down on the thoughts that don’t seem to be in his brain any longer, and it takes him a moment to process Jaskier’s words. “Alright, I can do that, right?” His legs move when he directs them to, and the stirrups drop down to the side of the saddle. “I can do that, can still move, that’s good, I can do something right -”

Jaskier is smiling encouragingly at him, but his eyes are still tight with worry. “Good, you’re doing wonderfully. Now swing your leg over and get down, c’mon.”

Geralt follows directions, and his mouth keeps talking as he does so. “I’m making him worry, I need to stop, can’t make him worry, I can’t do this, can’t be here anymore. Shut up! Just shut up, never talk again, that’s what you need to do-” He’s so tangled in the words that he almost doesn’t notice himself hitting the ground, and only barely catches himself. Jaskier reaches out a steadying hand, and Geralt leans into the touch. In one fluid motion the bard pulls the reins over Roach’s head and begins to lead her and Geralt through the grass on the side of the path.

“I can’t - he’s going to hear everything, he’s going to know and then he’s going to leave, I don’t want him to leave, I don’t, but he should, it’s better that way, no one should have to be around me -”

“Geralt” Jaskier sounds as if he’s trying to snap his friend out of it. “I’m here, I’m not leaving you.”

It only takes a few seconds for the words to make their way through his brain and back out through his mouth. “He won’t leave, he won’t leave, why would you believe that of course he will, he will if he knows, and he’s going to find out, probably already has, and he shouldn’t stay, he shouldn’t, it’s bad, I’m bad. I’m bad for him.”

Jaskier has brought them to a fallen log several feet off the path. He lets go of Roach, who drops her head and begins to eat, and guides Geralt to sit on the log, then sits beside him. “That’s not true, love, I promise that’s not true. Do you know what’s causing this?”

“It’s true, it’s true, he called me love, doesn’t mean anything, can’t mean anything, I can’t be saying this, he’ll know how I feel, he’ll leave, no one wants a witcher to be in love with them, I-”

Jaskier’s hand is on his shoulder, and the touch brings him out of his head a little. “I need you to focus, alright? Do you know what’s going on?”

Geralt tries to think, but it feels weird, off. “I don’t - curse, maybe? Feels like a curse, but I don’t know who would have cursed me, I need this to stop -”

“Okay, curse, we’re going with curse for now. But you don’t know who would have cursed you. Let me think about this.”

“I can’t - I can’t breathe, I need to stop, can’t stop, I want to stop -

Jaskier tightens his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and pulls, so the witcher slumps against him, and wraps his arms around him. “I know this is hard, and I’m so sorry, but I need your help. We have to figure this out.”

“We do, we do, please, I need it to stop, I need to get out -”

“Breathe, alright? Here, breathe with me.” Jaskier has managed to keep most of the panic from his voice, but there’s still a trace of it. Everything but that voice seems far away to Geralt.

“Breathe,” he says, trying desperately to match the rise of Jaskier’s chest. “I just need to breathe, I can do that, I can - it’s not working, I can’t even get breathing right, what’s wrong with me, why can’t I be fucking normal -”

Jaskier’s hand trembles a little as he strokes Geralt’s hair. “Okay, okay, I didn’t think that through. We’ll try something else.”

“I’m going to scream, I’m going to - I can’t breathe, I can’t do this, help, please help me -”

“I’m trying, I promise, we’re going to work this out.” There’s a quaver in Jaskier’s voice, and Geralt’s stomach turns to ice when he hears it.

“I’m making him upset, I’m making it worse, I’m bad, I need to go away and never come back, I’m being so loud, I’m not supposed to be loud -”

“Alright, tell me about the meadow, okay? Just tell me what you see. Can you do that?”

Geralt tries to focus, to tear his mind away from the spiral it’s stuck in, and turns his head from Jaskier’s shoulder and towards the world around them. “It’s - the treeline is far away, at the edge of the meadow, and there’s - there’s larch trees. And the flowers, there are so many of them, there’s bedstraw, that’s those white ones, and meadow saffron, right there, and buttercups, like Jaskier’s name. It’s a good name, it fits him. The ground goes up on the other side, doesn’t it? Yes, it starts sloping near where the trees start.”

Jaskier is singing, soft and low. Geralt can feel himself begin to settle.

“And - don’t know this song, it’s not one of his. It’s good, though, it’s gentle. A lullaby? Haven’t heard a lullaby in - a long time. Maybe ever? His voice is so clear, so beautiful, I love his voice, I -”

_love him. I love him so much._

There’s a moment where Geralt doesn’t realize he’s only thinking, that his thoughts have been stuffed back where they belong. They feel strange in his head, as if they don’t fit anymore.

_Like a gut injury where intestines get displaced. Easy to take them out but hard to put them back properly._

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. The world comes back piece by piece, and now he hears the birds, feels the press of sunlight on his skin. His mind is slowing down, as much as it ever does.

“You like my singing?” He can hear the surprise in Jaskier’s voice.

_I love your singing, always have. It’s perfect, just like you._

He shortens it to, “Yes.”

Jaskier laughs, and Geralt realizes there are tear tracks on his face.

_I made him cry, that’s bad, I never want him to cry because of me._

“You’re crying,” he says, reaching a hand up to grab the middle of Jaskier’s forearm, which is crossed over Geralt’s chest.

“I was worried, that’s all.” Jaskier tilts his head to the side before adding, “Don’t worry about worrying me, alright? I like that I get to worry about you.”

Geralt’s not sure that makes sense, but he nods, willing to trust Jaskier on this one. “I’ll try to.”

“Are you - If you’re up for it, we should talk. About a few things, actually. Those were your thoughts, right?”

_Shit he knows he knows, how did you forget that? Okay, stay calm. He knows, he knows you like him now, and he knows what a freak you are, he’ll - breathe. Just breathe._

“Yes. They were.”

Jaskier nods, and sounds suddenly apprehensive. “You - you said you were in love with me.”

_This is it, this is when he leaves - what if, what if he - I don’t know what I’ll do when he leaves -what if he feels the same what if - breathe._

“I feel the same way.”

_. . . What?_

“I’d like to make a grand declaration of love, but I think it would be wise to table this until we’re both more clear-headed.”

_Jaskier . . . loves me?_

“I - you - I would like it, if we talked about it more.”

He can almost feel Jaskier smiling.

_He’s happy. He wants to be with me, and that makes him happy._

Then Jaskier sights, and keeps going. “But there’s more we need to talk about, and I think we should address it now. Are your thoughts always like that?”

_He knows he knows, I was too loud, I was too bad and he knows, he’s -_

“Most of the time.”

“Geralt, some of the things you said were - we’ll say concerning. You said - you were talking about being too loud?”

_He knows, he knows, he - This is Jaskier. If you can tell anyone, you can tell him._

When he opens his mouth, the words don’t fall into place immediately. They stay in his brain, circling each other. But after a minute, they come to him.

“As a child, I was - I was always too loud, and I never - I said the wrong thing, all the time. So I decided - I decided I had to do better. I have - there’s so much in my head, but I don’t know when to say things, or what to say, and - the only way to be normal was to be quiet.” Hearing himself say it, he suddenly feels so bad for the boy he was.

_That boy was excited about everything, about the whole world. And the world told him to shut up, and he did. And even I told him to shut up, even though I’m him._

Jaskier is looking at him like this is the saddest thing he’s ever heard. “Oh, Geralt,” he whispers. He gulps, once, and then he’s crying again.

_Oh. I’m crying as well._

Jaskier breathes in slowly. “I was the same way,” he says quietly. “As a child. I didn’t arrive at the same solution, but I understand why you would.”

Geralt looks at Jaskier with surprise.

_He’s like me? I didn’t think - It makes sense, a little. Maybe that’s why we work. And Jaskier is - he took all that, all the mess in his brain, and he made someone people love. People like it when he’s loud, and they listen to him._

_I didn’t realize it could work out that way._

_Could I -_

“I didn’t know other people were like this.”

Jaskier nods. “There are more of us than you’d think. I knew several others like us at university. It was - It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” He shifts slightly, then adds, “You can be loud, alright? When you’re with me. You can be as loud as you want, and say all the wrong things, and talk about things you like as much as you want.”

“You can, too,” Geralt says, looking him in the eye. Jaskier laughs a little.

“You and me, we’ll be odd together, alright?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm leavemecryingdandelion on tumblr, stop by and say hello!


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